


When running is not enough

by thingwithfeathers



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And kills a lot of people, Angst, Getting Together, Good Peter Hale, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash, Some hinting at suicide, Stiles Runs Away, Touch-Starved Stiles Stilinski, but only bad guys, disregard everything in canon from after they killed Void, like at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 00:42:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingwithfeathers/pseuds/thingwithfeathers
Summary: The Nogitsune changed Stiles. Fearing that he will hurt the ones he loves he leaves Beacon Hills forever.Peter won't be left behind.





	When running is not enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegirlwhoknits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhoknits/gifts).



> So this is way out of my comfort zone, I usually go more for fluff but thegirlwhoknits wanted murder husbands, and this was as close I could get. I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, there is no gore or explicit violence in this, just a lot of implied dead guys. And absolutely no remorse for that.

Stiles wasn’t quite right after the Nogitsune. The thing had left something behind when it departed, and Stiles could never really shake the feeling that he shouldn’t still be alive. So much could have been avoided if he had just been able to make everything stop. But they had decided that he was worth saving and lost so much in the process.

  
He didn’t feel like he was worth it.

  
He was sure the lot of the pack felt the same.

  
So he was certain that he wasn’t really missed when he left Beacon Hills as soon as he was able. He only told his dad goodbye. His dad still cared after all, even if he had no idea how to handle his de-possessed son. Stiles didn’t fault him for that. He barely knew how to handle himself.

  
Quite frankly, he was scared of what he was capable of now.

  
Void had either unlocked something or given him something during its possession. Either case, Stiles knew how to hurt people now, how it felt, how much power it gave him. It was disturbing that he only got power from hurting people when Void had reveled in chaos. Chaos was neutral, it could be both good and evil. Stiles only got the evil part. The worst thing was that he just knew that he got more if he cared for the ones he hurt. He could still remember the sweet taste of the power from hurting Scott. He didn’t want to know how much better it would be if it was his dad. So he left as soon as he could.

  
And no, he hadn’t tested if it was still the same, even if he wanted to. But he felt the power surge in him when he disposed of the latest monster to cross his way and it felt exactly the same as the random people Void had tormented. So he could only guess it would be so much sweeter if he actually cared for the ones he hurt. It had been before after all.

  
He always made sure to end things quickly.

  
He got less power that way but he hated how much he craved that power. How good it felt, how much he wanted more. How much good he could do if he only got a little stronger. All the bad monsters he could take down if he just…

  
That path led to destruction.

  
So Stiles did his best at being good. He broke all ties with Beacon Hills, except with his dad. He would never abandon his dad, he just, couldn’t see him again. Ever. He also didn’t seek monsters out, he let them find him. Instead, he traveled the states to find the best protective magic out there. He couldn’t use the Void-power for it, but it didn’t matter. He still had a tentative feeling for his original spark. It was enough to activate most spells and rune-based magic he had come across. He couldn’t really do as much as he would have if he hadn’t been possessed in the first place, for example, pure mountain ash refused to cooperate with him now, but he could do some things. It took more time than he liked, but he could do them.

  
Like making sure he would never be possessed again.

  
He had sent that spell to his dad too, with the special ink that was needed for the tattoo and a recommendation to where he could go to get it done. He didn’t dare go home but he refused to leave his dad unprotected. He had got quite the knack for making magic ink, it was his main source of income at the moment. He couldn’t do the tattoos himself, even after all he had been through he still couldn’t handle needles and he had to use a whole lot of magic to keep himself calm getting his own, but he could make ink. Beautiful, powerful ink that only needed a little bit of magic affinity to be used. It was a hot commodity. Especially since he only sold it in person. He was trying to be good after all, he didn’t want to sell it to someone who would use it to do evil.

  
He traded a lot of knowledge too. He did protective wards to get to use private libraries. He did cleansing rituals for stories. Sometimes he did all of that just to have somewhere to sleep for a few nights where he could feel almost like he was normal. And he always gave anyone who asked copies of his research. A lot of it was stuff he couldn’t use himself too, but that didn’t mean others couldn’t.

  
He never took money for protection though, he got enough money for his ink that he didn’t really need it. And nobody should feel like they couldn’t afford to be safe. He didn’t have that many expenses anyway. He had left his car at home, it was too recognizable. He didn’t have a phone, the risk of getting found by the pack was too high if he had anything with a GPS in it. He had made sure to disable it from his laptop. Well, he had traded ink for a big ass protective dragon tattoo for someone to do it for him, but still.

  
He made sure to never tell anyone his real name and to change his appearances after each interaction. He didn’t think anyone from the pack would try and find him, and he had some pretty impressive tattoos to make it almost impossible for them to locate him by anything supernatural, but he didn’t want to risk it.

  
He also never stayed long with other people, he tended to attract trouble and didn’t want anyone innocent getting caught in the crossfire. Not ever again.

  
He did call his dad on a regular basis though. It was his only connection to his past. He never called from the same number or the same city but he did call. He never asked about the pack, and his dad never said anything about them either. They mostly talked about Stiles travels, what he had found, who he had met. Well, Stiles didn’t give names, or specific locations if he was still close but it was nice getting to tell his dad about the good things he did.

  
They didn’t speak about why Stiles was traveling in the first place. Stiles never mentioned how often he had to kill. Or how good it felt. Or how much it scared him. He never told how much he missed him either because if he did his dad would ask him to come home again. Probably say that they could face everything together. He longed to hear that, but he always pushed those feelings away.

  
Stiles couldn’t risk the temptation. He couldn’t risk putting his dad in harm’s way. Even if his heart ached at the knowledge that he would never see him again.

  
So he sent his dad a lot of gifts in compensation for his absence. He got small souvenirs, fun easy recipes for healthy foods he could try and every last bit of information on the supernatural he could find. Maybe his dad gave some of that to Scott, or maybe not. Stiles didn’t care. He still thought about him as a brother, but he didn’t trust him anymore. Scott was too easily swayed, well, by anyone else than Stiles that was. Because Stiles was too quick to dispatch of monsters for Scott's liking. At this point, Stiles wasn’t sure that Scott didn’t think he was a monster too. And only let him live because that was what he did.  
Stiles didn’t feel the same. If a monster came after him, he killed it. It didn’t matter what the monster wanted, or if it was human or supernatural for that matter. If someone tried to hurt or kill him, he killed them. Maybe that made him a monster, it probably did. He was a bit uncomfortable with how much like a hunter that made him, but as he didn’t hunt monsters down he could live with it.

  
And so far, not a single omega werewolf had gone for him, which was probably the only supernatural creature that he would have some mercy for. No, so far only power hungry creatures tried their luck. Which was annoying, he tried to be good after all, but he refused to let himself be killed. And he just couldn’t stop craving the power.

  
He had lived on the road for over two years when he came across Peter.

  
He wasn’t sure how many monsters he had killed at that point. Something drew them to him, and he was slowly but surely getting addicted to the power killing them gave him. Even if the only thing he could use the power for was to hurt people. Well, and go without sleep. So it was good for research too. But mostly, hurt people. Okay, it did heal him, so there was that, but that was kind of scary. He really didn’t like the feeling of flesh knitting together supernaturally fast. He couldn’t understand how werewolves could take it as something natural. And the no scars thing were freaky too, he hated getting hurt but at least scars meant that he had evidence of it happening and that he had survived. His dreams were getting more and more disturbing for every injury he healed without a trace.

  
But he was starting to get good at not getting hurt. The trick was to get in the first strike. It didn’t matter how, but as soon as he started to injure his adversary he was more or less invincible, growing more and more powerful for each blow. Once a whole pack of werewolves had come after him, not a single one of them walked away alive.  
Stiles had almost had a panic attack after that one, he had felt so much like Void again that he almost believed the thing had come back for him. He had barely slept for a month after that. First, because he didn’t need to, and then because he was afraid he wouldn’t wake up again if he fell asleep.

  
He may have isolated himself in an abandoned cabin for a while there. Not daring to be near anyone who could get hurt without actively wanting to hurt him. It had not been a good time at all.

  
He had noticed that the number of monsters going for him had tapered off before he met Peter again. It was unsettling and he didn’t want to admit it, but he had started to contemplate actually seeking out monsters that needed to be killed. Not that he needed the power they gave him… it was just nice to go on research binges without needing sleep and he had a weird ache in his left shoulder that he really could live without. And it was odd going without one monster trying to kill him for over a month.  
So to meet Peter when he went to his favorite low-life bar in the town he had stayed in for the last week was not really what he was expecting. He had hoped for someone who wanted to kill him, someone should have found him by now, he had never needed to stay at the same place this long before. He didn’t even have any good business in town, it was just a place he had stopped at to let the latest bad guy get caught up. But he seriously doubted that Peter wanted to hurt him. He had had countless chances getting rid of Stiles before without having to go to the trouble finding him way out in nowhere after all.

  
He saw Peter the moment he walked into the place, sitting at the bar chatting up the bartender. He looked amazing in a too tight green Henley and dark blue jeans. He had grown a beard and his hair was a tad longer than last Stiles had seen him. Somehow he fitted into the place without looking rough like the usual clientele. Stiles felt his heart skip a beat when Peter looked up at him across the room. He should just leave. But he couldn’t. His feet took him across the room to the bar without his say so, it was like his whole being were focused on Peter.

  
“Peter.” Stiles refused to look at the man when he sat down next to him at the bar and gestured for the bartender to give him his usual. He could feel him, his presence was buzzing through Stiles like electricity making him feel more alive than he had in years. But he didn’t look. He didn’t want to get tempted to try and get power from him. He liked him too much, they had always had a kind of connection, but it was so long since his last fight. Maybe he could just get into a small altercation? No need to kill the man, but just to get a little taste?

  
No! He didn’t do that. He didn’t torture people. He only hurt the ones after him. Why had he been left alone for so long?

  
“Well, it’s good to see you too sweetheart. I don’t even get a hello?”

  
Stiles just knew that Peter had donned his normal infuriating smirk but refused to look up from his beer. He was being good, he didn’t attack first. Maybe he would go away if he didn’t say anything, he already regretted sitting down next to him. And saying something, why did he say his name? Stupid! Maybe he should…

  
“Since when are you the strong silent type? Come on, don’t go all Derek on me. I already have one of him.”

  
Stiles was surprisingly glad to find that Derek was still alive, and in contact with Peter. He hoped they had managed to work through all the fucked up things between them. The Hales deserved some real family after all. Even Peter. Especially Peter.

  
“Why are you here?” Peter shouldn’t really be here, he should be in Beacon Hills, making sure that the territory stayed safe. God knows that Scott wouldn’t manage that on his own. He needed someone like Peter doing the hard stuff in the background. Like Stiles had done before getting the hell out of there.

  
“You know darling, you are way too hard to find for someone that seems to have some sort of target painted on for the wicked beasts of the world.”

  
Stiles scowled down on his beer. He didn’t like how the endearments made him feel. He didn’t deserve them. Not when he was contemplating hurting Peter. It was not right.

  
“It didn’t occur to you that I don’t want to be found?” Stiles slipped a few bills on the counter and got up from his seat. He had hardly touched his beer, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t come for it in the first place, he had come hoping for a fight, and that wasn’t happening so it was best to leave. Before he did something he would regret. He should have just turned at the door the moment he saw Peter.

  
He didn’t get far. He had barely gotten up before he felt a hand gently enclose around his arm. He froze, nobody touches him. Not like this.

  
“Haven’t you run enough Stiles? We miss you at home.” Peter sounded gentle. Stiles had never heard him sound like that. He was so tempted to just look at him, but he couldn’t. He didn’t deserve it.

  
“I can’t. Now let me go before I do something I’ll regret.” It felt like every nerve in his arm was on fire but in a good way. The warm pressure of Peter’s hand soothing something in Stiles he didn’t even know was tense. He hated it. He didn’t deserve soft touches. He didn’t need them. He still didn’t try to get away.

  
“You know what, I don’t think I will.” Peter got up and drew Stiles into a hug.

  
Stiles felt paralyzed. Every instinct in him screamed at him to push Peter away. To run from this. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve kindness of this sort. For all the good he tried to do, he still killed people without remorse. But he couldn’t move. It felt too good. He didn’t relax, he had better control than that, but Peter didn’t seem to care.

  
“How long have you gone without anyone touching you? Darling, everyone needs touch. It’s what keeps us human.”

  
Stiles felt like crying, he wasn’t human anymore. He was more of a monster than Peter had ever been. At least Peter had had the excuse of going insane. Stiles just killed because he could. Because he wanted to. He had the knowledge of hiding from every monster out there, he just didn’t take it. He wanted them to hunt him so he could get his sweet fix. So he didn’t deserve this contact. But he still couldn’t move. It felt too good.

  
Peter seemed to sense his inner turmoil because he continued without waiting for an answer.

  
“How about we leave this unfortunate place? Let me buy you dinner, and you can tell me how you managed to hide from me for over a year. If it wasn’t for all the stupid people drawn to you like moths to a flame I would never have found you.”

  
Stiles felt numb, Peter was the reason Stiles had been left alone for so long. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry for that. But how could he scold someone for killing or scaring monsters away? Peter didn’t know how Stiles craved those fights. Stiles had made sure that nobody knew that.

  
So he found himself nodding, maybe he could have this for a little bit. To distract from the lack of fights.  It would be nice to talk to someone who wouldn’t judge him for what he had done. If Peter would scold him for anything it would be for feeling bad for liking the power, and Stiles thought that he could live with that.

  
They ended up in a diner on the outskirt of the little town they were in. It was run down and greasy, but it was open all night and they got excellent privacy in a corner booth. Stiles contemplated putting a ward up that protected them from curious ears just in case but he didn’t really think it was necessary. Their waitress didn’t seem to care more than she had to to get a decent tip and the only other patron sat at the opposite end of the room. The ritual would probably draw more attention to them than it was worth.

  
Peter had somehow manipulated Stiles so they sat next to each other, legs pressed together. It was grounding, feeling the warmth of Peter. He was always a tad too cold these days but had never felt like he deserved to do anything about it. It also helped that he didn’t need to make eye contact with Peter. He didn’t think he would be able to tell him anything if he had to look at him while doing it. Peter probably knew that, smart bastard that he was.

  
They didn’t really talk until they got their food, and then, surprisingly Peter started by telling Stiles all about his year trying to find him. Apparently, he had been in constant contact with Stiles dad, which was just, what? How? And he had waited a year to give Stiles the chance to come back before going after him. He knew about needing some time alone so he didn’t begrudge Stiles that. But he had started to worry when there were no signs of him returning so he had started to try and find him. First, by going for the clues Stiles left his dad, but he had soon figured out that he would not find him that way.

  
He could find where he had been but not where he was going. The US was a big country after all. But he was starting to hear rumors about people disappearing after going for an easy kill. They were never close to each other, and there was never any evidence of anything. But Peter could connect a lot of these disappearances to where Stiles had been. So he started to hunt monsters instead of Stiles. As soon as he found one he interrogated them and then either killed them or scared them enough to never go after Stiles again. He had killed at least five before finally getting to where Stiles was. Even if he had been infuriatingly close a few times, just missing Stiles by a couple of hours.

  
He then asked what the hell Stiles had done to his scent because it was unnerving to sit next to someone who didn’t smell like anything.

  
Stiles had explained his tattoos then, how they made sure that no one who mattered could find him by magic, and that werewolf senses counted as well. Peter had actually perked up at that like he hadn’t believed that he mattered to Stiles before. Stiles wasn’t sure how he could have thought that. Peter had saved him from Void. Sure, he had made other people do all the work, but without Peter Stiles would still be stuck in his own head, or dead. Probably dead.

  
It was easy to talk as soon as he had gotten started. It was like something burst inside of him and he told Peter everything. How much he feared to hurt or even kill his dad if he ever went home again. How much power he got from hurting people. How good it felt. How he craved that feeling. How he suspected that it would feel even better if he hurt someone he loved. How he had decided that he would only kill those that came for him, so he never tried to hide from bad guys.

  
How he had killed countless monsters, both supernatural and not.

  
How he was starting to get twitchy because he had been left alone for weeks. Peter had looked sheepish at that and apologized which was stupid because he hadn’t known. It was actually kind of sweet that he had killed for him. That he cared enough to try and keep him safe.

  
He told him about how it felt being amped up on stolen power, not needing to sleep or eat or do anything but focus on his latest research. He had actually learned archaic latin that way, as he didn’t have access to Lydia anymore.  
He even told Peter how lonely he was, how much he missed his dad, how he sometimes just wanted to give up but refused to because people had died for him. People he had cared about were dead because no one had killed him before Void could do any permanent damage. So he didn’t deserve anything really.

  
Peter had growled but had stayed silent, letting Stiles finish before saying anything.

  
So he had told him how he was trying to do good. How he made sure to give protection to anyone who asked. How he only hurt or killed those who were after him. How he didn’t really sleep a full night anymore. He told Peter how he struggled with magic. How he probably could ward his dreams from nightmares, but didn’t because he didn’t feel like he deserved it. And he was scared that that feeling would translate into the ward and make them useless. Magic worked a lot on belief after all, and he just couldn’t believe that he deserved nice things anymore.

  
He was feeling empty when he didn’t have anything left to say. They had both finished their meals, dessert and countless cups of coffee. They were the only ones left, and their waitress had been changed for a new one. They made sure to pay for their meals before she left, she didn’t deserve to lose her tip just because they were staying late. The new one had just left them with the pot after their second refill of coffee so she would get a nice tip too.

  
“Thank you for telling me all that.” Peter’s voice was gentle, and he put a hand on Stiles' knee and squeezed. Stiles felt himself lean towards the other man, he was starting to crave his touch, now when he had realized what he had given up keeping everyone at arm’s length.

  
“I still don’t dare to go home, I miss dad, but I can’t hurt him.”

  
“Honey, you’ve spent almost four hours with me, without doing anything to hurt me. And that after I took your kills from you. Do you want to hurt me?”

  
Stiles took the time to think it over. Did he want to hurt Peter? He still craved the sweet taste of power, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been before sitting down to talk. He wanted to keep staying close to Peter. He wanted to maybe move to somewhere where they could cuddle. Actually, he wanted to cuddle very much now that he thought about it.

  
“…No.” He said it quietly, not wanting to give away any more than he needed. He still didn’t know why Peter had come after all. And he didn’t deserve cuddles, no matter how much he wanted them.

  
“So let’s make a deal, you spend a month with me, and if you don’t do anything to me that I don’t want we’ll visit your dad. I’ll be there the whole time making sure he stays safe. Does that sound reasonable?”

  
“You trust me not to kill you?” Stiles almost choke on the words, Peter didn’t trust anyone. How could he trust him? After he had told him how he craved hurting people.

  
“I trust you with my life Stiles, but we can make the ritual that makes you a tether for me so you can bring me back if it makes you feel better.”

  
Stiles just gaped at that, and finally met Peter’s eyes. They were sparkling blue and held so much devotion that he almost blushed. He really didn’t deserve that.

  
“You would do that, for me? Why?”

  
“Oh darling, I like you. I always have. My life is just stupendously boring without you in it.”

  
Stiles did blush at the wink Peter gave him as he stopped talking. Maybe he could have this. He could at least try.  
“Okay.”

  
“You’ll let me stay?” The smile Peter gave him was absolutely blinding.

  
“Yes, if we do the ritual, I’ll give you one month.”

  
He was abruptly engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, which frankly was making his shoulder hurt for real, but he melted into it anyway awkward as it was with the table getting in the way.

  
“I’ll make it the best month you’ve had in years.”

  
Yes, maybe Stiles could have this.

  
Have Peter.

  
And maybe, just maybe, he would let himself have some cuddles too.     

**Author's Note:**

> And then they get a room in a hotel somewhere and cuddle all night. Peter will slowly get Stiles to trust that he won't be an indiscriminate murder machine and Stiles will allow himself being with Peter. 
> 
> They start visiting Stiles dad, who is so thankful of Stiles being home that he doesn't care one bit that he is with Peter. 
> 
> Stiles still kills anyone trying to hurt him, Peter helps. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
